Primal Identity
by SpeaksInRiddles
Summary: A dream by any other name, yet where does the border between reality and illusion lie? Unable to find answers to his One Question, Primus fall into a slumber. But what does a green-eyed saviour have to do with this? Reality may be stranger than fiction sometimes, but remember: Just because it happens in your head, does not mean it is not real...
1. Primal Identity

**Tao Te #56 ~ Primal Identity**

**Ф**

**Those who know don't say.**  
**Those who talk don't know.**

**Close the mouth, hold your breath**  
**Allow the flow, just let it rest**

**Block the corridors.**  
**Close the doors**  
**File the edges**  
**Dull the points**  
**Untie the tangles.**  
**Loosen the knots.**

**Let go of fears,**  
**Allow the love**  
**Soften the glare,**  
**Be one with the dust**

**This is the primal identity.**  
**which is called Divine Unity**

**A profound mystery**  
**That sets you free**

**He who is at one**  
**Cannot be put down**  
**will not be puffed up**

**Cannot be enmeshed**  
**Nor enmired**

**Cannot be insulted**  
**Disgraced or even honored**  
**Is immune to infection**  
**Loss or gain**  
**Does not suffer**  
**When feeling pain**

**He cannot be fired**  
**Nor can he be hired**

**He cannot be courted**  
**Nor shunned**  
**Helped nor harmed**

**He is the noblest of the world**  
**Thus he treasures the universe**


	2. Prologue

There are few things worst to a parent, than seeing their children lose their way. To one such as Primus, who felt every single loss keenly, this war that had broken out-

-It was so very painful.

Many times He had intervened, nudged things towards a modicum of peace in one reality or another, only for the fighting to start all over again, for the most foolish of reasons. He could hardly blame them, war was all they had known for so long, and when things became hard... It was so much easier to fall back into that mindset of them against us.

But still, it had Him doubting, had He made a mistake? Was... Was He somehow to blame for this fatal flaw in their programming?

Free Will was worth it, that was something that could not be denied-

-but-

-This ever present spiral of self-destruction, repeated endlessly across the multiverse-

Were peace and co-existence just foolish dreams, unreachable concepts, after all?

Sometimes He wished there was a Higher Force to guide Him to the answers to their questions, as He tried to guide His children. But in that regard, His existence was a lonely one, with no one to rely on Himself.

Because, really, who else was He supposed to ask? Unicron?

He vented, finding the very thought to be wryly humorous. Somehow, He didn't think His brother's modus operandi of Complete Annihilation as a valid answer to His plight.

The amusement soon faded though, and He wearily got back to thinking about His dillema.

He didn't know how much time had passed pondering on this subject, or if it had come to pass at all, being an entity outside of the normal flow of time-

What He did notice, but paid little attention to, however, was that He was growing increasingly tired.

As a God He did not recharge in the traditional way, yet it did not stop the slow but steady reduction of his conscious processes, or the switch that converted some of them to unconscious ones.

What do Gods dream of?

Only time will tell...


	3. Parallels

There was something Wrong with the world.

This sentiment is something that Harry had known since he had first gained awareness, and had persisted throughout his childhood.

Later he had amended this statement, after learning it was probably just him. But that did not take away this inexplicable feeling. When he first learned of magic, he had thought he had found an answer to the why of it, but even now, after 9 years of living among kin, it did not abide.

In fact, it only grew.

If he had to put it into words he would say that it was like the world was both more and less than it should be. Or that he was both less and more than he should be. He had yet to figure out which of the two options it was, for all that it made for the same difference.

It was as if the answer was right there, yet beyond his grasp. Illusive like the nightmares that plagued him when he slept, but could never remember in the mornings, even as they left him crying as he woke up.

Like they currently had done.

Harry was staring blankly at ceiling, trying to organize his thoughts, praying for an answer to a God that would most likely not deign him with a response. His magic thrummed in an attempt to soothe him, having grown increasingly sentient after the absorption of the Hallows, but it was hollow comfort.

He turned to lay on his side, allowing him partial view of the nightsky. The moon was partially obscured by a single cloud, but the sky was otherwise clear. As he was living in Hogsmeade, the stars were plain to see.

If praying to a God did not help, would wishing upon a star? He mused idly, humming the old nursery rhyme. Deciding he had nothing to lose, he tried to formulate his desire-

-but failed.

Harry sighed, and resigned himself to a fitful sleep.


	4. Chapter 1

Harry liked to think of himself as a rather serene person. Aside from those thrice-damned nightmares, very few things could throw him truly off-kilter. Finding out he had been the Saviour of a hidden magical community had been one of those things.

Apparently being caught in a fight between Giant Robots was another one.

Who would have thought?

It was supposed to be a nice relaxing vacation, FREE of hazardous technology for God's sake. Of course the 'nice and relaxing' part of it was meant for the Technomancy Division, who didn't want to deal with any more explosions while Harry's labs were being repaired. But Harry himself had agreed with the sentiment, even it wasn't meant to be as two-way as he took it.

It's why he had chosen to stay in a little Irish town in the middle of nowhere. Very little chances of being sucked into yet another adventure. Or so he had thought.

He sincerely wondered what he had done to earn Fate's ire. He had fulfilled the prophecy hadn't he? Did he miss some hidden clause? He snorted. Had he missed a soulmate somewhere?

Or did he just make a fun chewtoy?

Out of one war and into another. And for some reason he doubted he could make any real difference in this one. Oh, it's not like he wasn't oddly suited for a role in it, being one of the few wizards who knew his way around technology-

-Which, fortunately for the craft, said more about how backwards Magical Britain was in comparison to the world, rather than the incompetence of Magicals in general.-

-But even with his interest in combining magic with science, something which offended the sensibilities of many purebloods, this was a bit beyond his scope of being able to deal with.

Well, he was never one to sit things out though, even if it would have been the better idea. So he went in after one side left, the skirmish having finished. He would not necessarily involve himself in another war, but what he could do was use a few healing spells on the pilot of that robot, whose dimming flicker of life he could sense in the area.

He cast a few diagnostic spells on the robot, trying to use them to pinpoint the human life that was undoubtedly within. The results blew his mind. Harry cursed. Holy shit, this thing had a soul of its own. It was alive... erh... dying in every sense of the word. Had mundane science really processed that far? He could scarcely believe it.

This changed things.

He always had a saving-people-thing, but he had not thought to factor these robots within the margin of 'people' initially. That having changed with this discovery.

"Can you stop that", a halting voice hissed, "I don't know what you're doing fleshling, but the energy your using is messing with my body's remaining processes."

Harry snorted, "As if you aren't messed up already", he muttered. Walking around the bot, casting some more charms. He came in view of the head, and its one remaining functional eye glared at him for that statement.

Something had clicked into place for Harry though, causing the boy to go into mechanic-mode, not noticing the stare.

* * *

Wheeljack heaved a sigh, "Great. Not even considerate enough to let somebot die in peace... Why did I follow Prime's message here again?"

The native cocked its head, "And that would be, who exactly?", it asked. "Nevermind", it said, "Lets get you moved before they get back."

This time it was Wheeljack's time to vent. "And you are going to do this how exactly? You don't have the equipment for it." The human jabbed at him with the stick it had been waving in the air, causing his body to rise in the air. He felt great pain, and the human must have noticed, because he floated him down again.

"It seems the damage is to extensive for a standard levitating spell", it muttered, "You've been broken into too many pieces. Hmm... I wonder... is it repairing or healing spells that are going to be compatible. Well, no time like the present to find out."

"Wait what!" Wheeljack spluttered, feeling like one of his own experimental subjects. The native's words didn't exactly fill him with confidence, but it simply shushed him.

"Oh don't be a baby", it said, "I'm going to gather the information on your biology first, before testing them on something non-vital. It probably won't even explode!"

Yeah, he was definitely looking at a miniature version of himself. Oh Primus... He swore to himself he was going to better his ways, if only he survived this crazy fleshling long enough for the Autobots to hone in on his signal.

Some of his thoughts must have shown on his face, because the native had an expression rather similar to a Cybertronian scowl. "God, first my colleagues and now you... I'm not THAT bad!"

It jabbed his stick again, muttering something under its breathe. Wheeljack's optics widened as his chestplates began to open up, baring his Spark for the world to see. He tried to close them again, feeling distinctively violated, but it was in vain.

The squishy looked him straigth in the optic, "Sorry in advance", it said, saluting cheerfully, although its eyes had grown dark, and his expression betrayed its true discomfort at the situation."But I need some knowledge on your anatomy, and the fastest way to do this, is take the knowledge straight from your mind."

Wheeljack tried to protest, to point out the ramifications of what the native was going to do, but he wasn't fast enough. He felt it's presence surround his very Spark, touching it, digging into it, clearly analyzing the data. The worst thing was that it didn't feel unpleasant, the presence being distinctively gentle, despite the unpracticed nature of its actions.

No! He shouldn't think like that! And began to fight the native with all he had, which, in his state, was surprisingly little. After what seemed to be an eternity the presence withdrew, and Wheeljack mercifully blacked out.

* * *

Harry gave the now unconscious robot a look over, feeling decidedly ill. Oh, he knew what he had done had pretty much amounted to mindrape, but had accepted that part for the sake of the bot in question. What he had not known, but later found out, while rifling around, is that it was pretty close to sexual intercourse too.

And that wasn't the worst part yet...

He squinted his eyes and looked up sky at as he heard an unusual sound. A strange vortex had appeared. 'Ground Bridge', his newly found, but not yet entirely assimilated knowledge supplied. In the few seconds he used to come to that conclusion, they had pointed their weapons at him.

Just his luck...

He however, wouldn't let go of his patient after getting this far, and let the 'bots know this, loudly.

* * *

The sight they got too wasn't pretty. Buildings destroyed, the ground torn open, and scorch marks everywhere, even a few Decepticon drone parts here and there. What immediately drew the attention though, was the human who was hunched over Wheeljack's opened Sparkchamber.

"Get away from him!", Bluestreak growled to the native.

"Like hell I am", the man snapped. "Unless you get your medic here right this second, I'm the best chance you have at saving this guy!"

They openly gaped at the audacity of this human.

"And you're going to do that, how?", he questioned sarcastically. He noticed the human's eyebrow twitch. It pointed a stick at the building on the other side of Wheeljack's body. The Autobots could feel some sort of energy building up, vibrating against their Spark, waiting to be unleashed.

They didn't have the wait long, as the human bellowed "Reparo". Before their eyes the building was restored to what likely had been it's original state. "Like that". He stated coolly.

Somewhere to Bluestreak's right, he saw Prowl glitch. It wasn't long before he joined him.

The third of their team, Arcee, let out a frustrated vent, despite herself. 'Mechs', she thought.

She turned to the human. "And you are sure you can help him?", she asked, her voice cold.

"No... Yes... I don't know!", he said waspishly, "What I do know is that he's not going to survive being transported right now, especially not through a Ground- or Spacebridge. It's not like I know of a better option than giving it my best try!"

It was clear from his tone that he wanted to get to it, and, despite Arcee's doubts, the femme let him. Despite the fact that it pained her, neither Ratchet nor Red Alert would have the time for the nearly-expired bot, what with the fact that Ratchet had been wounded himself, and the latter was busy stabilizing the former.

She could feel another build up, a lot smaller this time, which confused her. Wouldn't he need more energy to fix something as inherently complex as a living being? Let alone a cybertronian. Instead he was doing it piece by piece.

Just before she could voice her question, the human spoke up, "Too much of...", he paused, looking for words, "...this energy tends to overload electronics. Cybertronians, while slightly more resistant to such things, are no exception."

This set of the metaphorical alarm bells. "And how exactly did you come across this knowledge?"

The human vented, and said, "Before you shoot me, I'd like to say it was an act of desperation in order to safe this guy's life." He paused for a bit, causing her to grow somewhat impatient. "I used this energy manipulation of mine to link up with his Spark and search through his knowledge."

Her face slackened, before tightening again. If she was a human, she would have swallowed in anger.

"You interfaced with him..."

The human turned an interesting red colour.

* * *

Harry blushed, "Can you shoot me for that at a later time? I kind of need my concentration before my ma... this energy I control starts to run wild through his systems. That'd be... bad."

Both decided to shut up at that point. It was not like either had much choice.


	5. Chapter 2

_Dreams are wondrous things. Some see them as a gift or warning from higher forces, when others see it as a way to organize their minds while they sleep. While a third party yet could believe it to be a link between two worlds._

_He never realized it, but when he was dreaming, he was never quite himself. He'd lose part of what made hom who he was, but would gain something else. Something which was not quite equal, but both hurtsome and satisfactorily in its own way._

_Was he the man dreaming to be a butterfly, or the butterfly dreaming to be a man?_

_Was he neither, either, or both of the previous options at once?_

_Even he could not tell, had it come down to it, although he would have had suspicions._

_That was, however, neither here nor there, as both sides remained elusive to eachother._

_And so they both slept-_

_And dreamed of war._

* * *

Wheeljack came out of recharge to the sight of Red Alert hovering over him. So he had made it to their base. Strange, he was sure he would have offlined after that last battle. He felt-

-Surprisingly good, now that he thought about it.

It was at that very moment everything came rushing back.

The native.

It's power.

The forced interface.

Okay, scrap that, he started to feel unsurprisingly bad. Despite his apparent physical health, he wasn't in a good place mentally. If only he had been a little faster, stronger or more vigilant, he wouldn't have ended up in that state and... and... He would have had the power to prevent it.

Oh, he realized it wasn't his fault, but that didn't mean he couldn't blame himself, in absence of the...

His eyes zeroed in on the fleshling lying on the berth next to him.

Oh Primus!

He shot up.

"Oh... No... You don't!"

Red Alert, who, up to that point had been silent, to allow him to come to his realizations, not-so-gently pushed him down again. She shook her head, her eyes filled with the promise of... something... most likely unmentionable... if he made a scene.

Wheeljack spluttered in response to that action. He had the right to cause a ruckus, what with what happened to him! He thought bitterly, especially since the cause of his distress it was within squishing distance.

His thoughts must have been evident on his face, because the medic's face softened slightly, although there was still an edge to her expression.

"What he did...", Wheeljack croaked. Red Alert's expression became pained with the knowledge of what he had originally been about to say, but she nevertheless filled him in by finishing his sentence.

"...Was save your aft with data he obtained by linking to a Spark so alien to him, that his processors ended up glitching. Despite that, he finished his self-assigned task of repairing you first, nearly offlining himself in the process."

The Femme Medic vented, "I... I know how you must feel... Believe me... I do...", she shuddered, nearly losing herself in dark memories, "But... While his way of going about turned out to be... not quite optimal... He did perform a miracle in his own right... By saving your life. I've seen the footage. You were a goner."

"That doesn't make it okay!", he roared, startling the beings in the room.

"No, it doesn't.", Red Alert said soothing, while playing the devil's advocate. "You have every right to be angry at him. He took away your choice, and with it, a large part of your future. It doesn't make it okay. Nothing will make it okay. Neither your continued wellbeing nor his ignorance of the permanence of his actions, takes away the fact that he violated you. But... What it does not make him is a bad person. He did what he thought was right with the frame of reference he had, knowing it would likely have high cost to himself."

Wheeljack closed his optics, and vented sharply. Trying to suppress his anger at both the native, and the medic that was defending him. Her words had reached him, but oh... That did not take sting of it away.

Could he say he rather have died?

No.

Yes!

He didn't know!

Before he could ponder about this further, a long flat tone echoed through the room. At closer inspection it turned out to come from a monitor connected to the native.

Red Alert had uncharacteristically cursed, while the native medics sprang into action-

* * *

Harry found himself at the nearly empty representation of Kings Cross Station for the fourth time in just as many days He lost his balance, when the manifestation of death, - A Grim of all things-, jumped at him again. Lying on his back he could only stare as the bear sized dog's yellow eyes stared at him reproachfully.

"Yes. Yes. I GET IT. It was a stupid action.", he yelled at it, after lying in that positon for roughly half a minute. "That does not mean you have to repeat this every single time I get here."

Death gained a thoughtful look, before licking him in the face. With an extra large dose of slobber.

Harry was glad this was his mind, and he didn't necessarily have to breath. Otherwise it would have gotten into his mouth. Swapping spit with a large dog, force of nature or not, was not on his to do list.

He merely gave it a glare.

After another minute or so, the Grim got off. Harry used that chance to quickly wipe the slobber from his face.

* * *

-And the sound shifted back to the in comparison nearly unnoticeable 'Blee-Bleep'ing instead.

"What just happened?", Wheeljack asked, slightly confused.

"He was clinically offlined for a bit due to failure of one of its majorly important pieces of hardware. This one is used to keep their equivalent of circulating Energon pumping to where it needs to go."

* * *

"Well, I guess it's time for me to go again!", Harry said happily, as he felt a tugging on his self.

Death's wagging tail slowed, and it whined.

Harry rolled his eyes, "If only other people could see you like this..."

The Grim barked.

Harry faded from view.

* * *

Hermione was panicking. Where was Harry! When he hadn't returned from his vacation, they had initially written it off. Harry tended to get distracted by things, and didn't always keep track of time.

It was only two days later that they send someone to his vacation adress, only to find the area cordoned off by the muggle police. With some deliberate use of notce-me-not charms, they managed to get in...

Only to find the town destroyed, safe for a single intact building amongst the ruins.

Oh she should have known! Another adventure! For Merlin's sake!

* * *

"You do realize", a voice said to the lone Grim, waiting for its master to return, "That you could have revealed yourself."

The dog changed into a haggard-looking man. "Nah...", it said with cheer that was obviously faked. "I don't deserve such a chance with Prongslet. Not yet at least... Not before he has gotten over it."

"If that is your desire, apprentice... I cannot stop you. I merely ask you to... reconsider."


	6. Chapter 3

It had been three weeks before Harry was finally of sound enough mind again. It was not quite as human as it had been, mind you, because his magic had been forced to alter it to better adapt to the Cybertronian knowledge he had lifted from Wheeljack's mind, but it was better than the glitching wreck it had been before.

The doctors were baffled at this. A brain doesn't simply rewrite itself!

Harry cared little for that though, and spend more time chatting with Ratchet and Red Alert, to learn more about the Cybertronian biology. He had gleaned some very interesting things from Wheeljack's knowledge, but there were obvious holes in it, as it wasn't the 'Bot's expertise.

Both had initially been reluctant, not quite sure what to make of the strange human, but had humoured him, if slightly hesitantly. He may have an easy-going personality and a quick mind, but neither of them had forgotten where his side of the knowledge they had been discussing had come from.

He took this with grace, as he would likely have responded worse in their situation.

After some musing, he was curious about one thing though,

"Why didn't you guys just take me to the hospital, instead of going out of your way to keep me here?"

The two medics had exchanged a nervous glance. Red Alert's optics had turned pleading. She wasn't the one that wanted to explain this to the human, frag it! Ratchet, despite his gruff nature, wasn't going to leave her to hang.

"It's because you bonded yourself to Wheeljack", he said plainly.

Harry's mind did the maths, and the image he saw was even uglier than he had previously thought.

It had answered his question, surely. To their knowledge Wheeljack's spark would have kept him grounded, not quite bound to this plane of existence, but giving him a -slightly slippery, fraying- rope to hold onto, if he so desired. His status as the Master of Death had made that point moot, seeing how he would always be given the choice to return, but they hadn't known that.

It also brought the reality of the situation crashing down on him. As if the well-intentioned mindrape or unintentioned intercourse hadn't been bad enough. To have bound the 'Bot to him in such a manner... It was completely and utterly wrong.

Harry stumbled a little. He felt nauseous and slightly dizzy at the revelation. This was as close to a soulbond as you were going to get, and initiating one of those was forbidden for a reason. Initiating one of them on an unwilling subject.

Harry couldn't fight it anymore, doubled over, and threw up.

This had the medics in a panick for a bit. It wasn't until after he had stopped puking, and subsequently dry-heaving that he could assure them he was alright. Physically at least.

Ratchet remained suspicious, to say the least.

"Look", Harry explained, "The purging of my stomache is a bit of an automated reaction to something so... well... You know... Aside from the physical reasons, it can be triggered by extreme feelings of fear, stress and disgust."

That was about right, wasn't it?

"The realization... I knew that what I did was morally ambiguous at best, but forcing a goddamn soulbond? During it I had found out interaction of this nature was more intimate to your species than to ours, or at least, in a different way. But... But... It is so very different for humans, for nearly all of the sentient species on this planet... Not nearly as permanent."

It took a while for Ratchet to formulate a response, but Red Alert beat him to vocalizing something, with her realization of some of Harry's words.

"Nearly all of the sentient species on this planet? You mean humans aren't the only one?"

The teen looked like a deer caught in the only slightly proverbial headlights.

"Erh... I plead the Fifth?"

The Femme gave him an unamused look, and he amended,

"At least until I can get you guys clearance for this stuff..."

* * *

It had taken a lot of paperwork, threats and visits to the Prime Minister, but Hermione Granger finally managed to find her way through the red tape surrounding the incident in which Harry went missing.

In fact, if the guy hadn't known of her work with species such as Goblins, Dwarves and Veela, she might not even have come that far. But fortunately he did know of her efforts to bring the Magical Races together.

And subsequently figured she could handle one more.

So he laid everything out for her, along with the tentative question if the Cybertronians could be included in the Secrecy Act. That would be one concern less for the Muggle Governments.

Hermione took the news very well, all things considered.

She only blew up once.

(That is, for trying to hoist of a sentient species unto others, without involving said species first...)

* * *

Something that, on the opposite, blew up more than once were Wheeljack's latest inventions. Even more than usual, that is. He simply couldn't focus on the tasks at hand. He wanted to say he didn't know why it kept happening, but that would be a lie.

In the end it all came down to that damnable native.

Every single time he tried to immerse himself in his work, he could feel those phantom touches again. The same went for the precious few seconds before recharge, the sensation often jolting him fully online again.

He'd have gone to Ratchet, to scan him for faulty lines of programming and other glitches, but the human was still in the medbay and he'd like to keep up the avoidance of him, thank you very much.

It was unhealthy behaviour, he knew that. Wheeljack knew he was a mess, and he was not to proud to admit it. Especially when it was this obvious. That didn't take away his homicidal urges though, and that was something he'd like to avoid even more than just the native.


End file.
